


Dragon Peace

by Author_of_Kheios



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Flirting, Gen, Noodle Dragons, Unusual Abilities
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-06
Updated: 2021-02-06
Packaged: 2021-03-17 21:48:58
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,067
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29232564
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Author_of_Kheios/pseuds/Author_of_Kheios
Summary: Storm Bow is going to have to be replaced...ORHanzo channels the dragons through Peacekeeper
Relationships: Jesse McCree/Hanzo Shimada
Comments: 8
Kudos: 139





	Dragon Peace

"Watch yer head!"

For a split second, Jesse isn't sure Hanzo heard, and panic flashes through him, a burning cold that momentarily locks his limbs. Then Hanzo drops, spinning on his heel and twisting his torso in a way that shouldn't be possible to draw his bow at an awkward angle. It doesn't affect his accuracy, however, and the Talon soldier sprouts a third eye, collapsing without a word as the momentum of their swing cancels out the force of Hanzo's arrow.

Jesse breathes again, already focusing on the last two soldiers of the strike team they encountered. Closing one eye, he tugs at the red thread of death wrapped around his soul, letting the pressure build behind the other eye. Wisps of red coalesce into vivid bloody skulls on the foreheads of the soldiers rushing them, and Jesse doesn't hesitate to fire, planting one bullet dead centre on each skull.

The gruesome spray of blood and brain matter that mists the air satiates the devil inside, and Jesse revels in the moment of pure peace that always follows a Dead Eye kill as he turns to check on Hanzo.

"How ya doin'?"

"I am alive," Hanzo answers simply, dusting off his sleeve and crouching beside the soldier he shot to see if his arrow is salvageable. "Thank you for your timely warning."

"No prob," Jesse nods, removing the empty shells in the chamber of his revolver and reloading it. "Any idea what Talon's doin' 'round here? Thought they were all tied up in somethin' out east."

"I have no idea," Hanzo says, frowning at the tip of his arrow and testing it against his thumb. "This strike team should not be here. We should report back as soon as possible."

"Gonna check the bodies real quick," Jesse says, heading for the nearest one. "Maybe they got orders on 'em or somethin'." Hanzo only grunts in response, retrieving the rest of his arrows while Jesse carefully checks each corpse for any sign of the team's purpose.

He's almost done when Hanzo abruptly darts over and grabs his shoulder. When he looks up, the archer puts a finger to his lips and then taps his own ear, pointing off in the direction from which the Talon soldiers first came.

More? Certainly not. Was this not a strike team, but a scouting party?

Jesse nods acknowledgement and gestures for Hanzo to head off to the right. Then he takes off to the left, staying low and quiet, and makes a wide circle around the flank, checking every corner and alcove for other Talon operatives.

A footfall catches his attention and he dives into the nearest doorway just in time to hide from an entire troop of Talon foot soldiers and a good dozen or more of the specialists that have been showing up more frequently in the past few months.

This isn't good at all. Worse, he recognises the leading captain as one of the lower ranks in the higher ups that they've been chasing for nearly three years now.

_ Oh hell in a fuckin' handbasket, _ Jesse thinks, really, really hating his life right now. He has to find Hanzo and get the hell out of dodge before this troop finds the bodies of their scouting party and starts looking for whoever killed them.

Fortunately, Hanzo finds him, and by his grim expression, he's already seen the troop and realises how much shit they're in. Neither says a word as they sneak through the alleys and side streets of this ― thank God ― abandoned city, Jesse in the lead.

Finally, he's sure they've put enough distance between themselves and the troop, and he breathes a little huff of relief, nodding at Hanzo as he turns a corner... and runs smack dab into a wall of muscle.

"Jesse!" Hanzo snatches the strap of his breastplate and yanks him back, lunging between him and the giant soldier in Talon gear. The soldier's enormous fists slam down on Hanzo's armguard, and despite his efforts to deflect rather than block, Jesse hears a subtle but sickening snap that can only mean a broken bone.

"Goddamnit, Han!" Jesse snaps, trying to drag the archer back with him. Unfortunately the soldier manages to grab Hanzo's wrist, and snatches at Jesse's arm too, huge fingers wrapping around the bow slung over Hanzo's shoulder instead. With Jesse's help, Hanzo manages to twist free, but in the process the bow cracks, breaking in half and falling away in the soldier's grasp as Hanzo and Jesse stumble away.

"NO!" Hanzo bellows raggedly, starting back toward the soldier.

"Let it go!" Jesse orders, holding him back. "We have to get out of here!"

"I've got them!" the Talon soldier barks into whatever comms are built into their helmets. The soldier keeps coming at them while conveying directions to their location, and Hanzo flinches visibly when his bow is simply tossed aside like junk. Jesse sympathises, but now is not the time.

"We'll get you a new one," he promises, dragging Hanzo away. "Come  _ on _ !" Hanzo falters, but reluctantly gives in, allowing Jesse to lead him away.

The soldier chases them through the streets, and by the sounds of it, more join the chase in spite of their best efforts to shake their pursuers. Then they're trapped in a dead end, both panting heavily and fast running out of options.

"Shit!" Jesse snarls, kicking the brick wall blocking their way and glancing back the way they came, which leads straight back into the arms of their enemies.

"How many bullets do you have left?" Hanzo asks, surprisingly calm for the situation. He's winded and shivering, sweating more than he should and cradling his arm to his chest.

"Not enough," Jesse growls. "Jesus, how bad is it?"

"Bad," Hanzo admits, grimacing slightly. "Even if I had Storm, I would be of no use in this fight."

"So we're fucked. Just great."

"No." Jesse looks at Hanzo, but the archer is staring hard back down the alley, a calculating expression on his face that stalls Jesse's questions. Talon is catching up, and they have maybe a few more seconds before they're found, but Jesse waits for Hanzo to finish thinking.

"Got an idea?" he asks when Hanzo looks at him again.

"Can you handle another Dead Eye?"

"...Maybe?" Jesse scowls, shifting uneasily. "Hard enough keepin' the bloodthirst down on a daily basis; feedin' the beast twice in one day ain't the greatest idea."

"You will only need one bullet," Hanzo assures, stepping toward him as the pounding footsteps and shouted commands draw closer. "Do you trust me?"

"One- Darlin' we got at least a hundred soldiers after us right now; don't think one bullet's gonna cut it."

"Do you trust me?" Hanzo asks again, insistent.

Before Jesse can answer, the first soldier comes into view and stops, glancing over their shoulder and shouting for reinforcements. Immediately, Jesse draws Peacekeeper and puts himself between Hanzo and the gathering troop.

Fortunately, the dead end is only wide enough for them to approach four abreast, but unless Jesse plans on barricading the alleyway with dead bodies, it isn't going to do them much good.

Hanzo presses close ― close enough for Jesse to smell his shampoo ― and reaches up with his broken arm, breath hitching in Jesse's ear as he wraps his hand around Jesse's. His fingers are discoloured, almost purple at the tips, and that doesn't bode well for the state of his arm, though there's no visible damage; they need to get back to Angela as soon as possible.

"Surrender peacefully and we might spare your lives!" the captain shouts from somewhere behind the advancing column of soldiers. Hanzo's grip on Jesse's hand tightens, putting weight against the trigger.

"Trust me," the archer whispers, his breath warm against Jesse's jaw.

Gritting his teeth, Jesse closes one eye and tugs at the red thread of death again, awakening the thirst again. It rises up, threatening to swallow him whole as wisps of red gather in his vision. Bloody skulls form; too many for the bullets in his gun, each begging to be pierced.

_ "Ryu ga waga teki wo kurau," _ Hanzo murmurs. Blue flares up alongside the red wisps, and a new feeling floods through Jesse, washing over him like an ocean wave that threatens to sweep him away. The bloodthirst he knows so well is buried beneath a crushing hunger like nothing he's ever felt, and he knows that if he doesn't feed this hunger, more than his soul will be consumed.

Those blood red skulls have never looked so weak and pathetic; suddenly, one bullet seems like just enough... He pulls the trigger, and dragons explode from the barrel of Peacekeeper, melting the bullet away in an instant as they devour the distance separating them from their prey.

Everything goes dark for a moment, and then Jesse is blinking against a harsh light shining directly into his eyes.

"He's awake!" a familiar voice shouts.

"So's Hanzo," adds another familiar voice. "Good. Let's get them on the ORCA, quickly! We've got you, boys; you're safe now."

Jesse's head feels like it's trapped in a vice, and he has no problem closing his eyes and letting the darkness win again. The next time he wakes, the familiar white walls of the infirmary in Gibraltar greet him, and low voices draw his attention to the next bed, where Hanzo is sitting up and watching Angela finish wrapping his arm in a splint.

"Don't worry," she assures warmly. "After you've healed, you should still be able to fire a bow. I'll work with Zenyatta to come up with some exercises for you to do when physical therapy becomes an option."

"Thank you, Doctor," he says, bowing his head respectfully. His gaze catches on Jesse's and a faint smile curls his lips. "I see you survived the dragons, cowman."

"Ah! How are you feeling, Jesse?" Angela asks brightly, moving to his bed and checking him over.

"Nn... Like I got wrung out and stretched a few too many times," he mutters. "Got a headache like nothin' else."

"How's your eye?" Angela presses, gently lifting the lid of his marked eye, which makes him wince.

"Ow... Sensitive to light right now; ain't helpin' the migraine either."

"I'll bring you some medicine and an eyepatch to wear over it for the rest of the day. Other than that, you are both free to go. Stay away from the training centre until I've cleared you for active duty again, and make sure you get plenty of rest; understand?"

"Yes, ma'am," Hanzo and Jesse agree.

"Good. I'll be right back."

"So," Jesse says after she leaves. "Is that how they always are? The dragons?"

"Not always," Hanzo hums, settling back against the pillows. "They spend much of the day sleeping. When I let them out, whether to feed or to play, they impress their emotions on me as they leave my skin. Because I channelled them through you, you felt their hunger."

"Then... they ain't always hungry?"

"No," Hanzo smiles lightly, touching his bandaged forearm. "They only share their hunger when I unleash them on my enemies. To give them focus and power, I must channel them and give a part of myself; that is why I cannot unleash them often."

"...My Dead Eye ain't nothin' like that," Jesse mutters, not quite able to hide his resignation. "Nothin' but blood, blood, n' more blood, all the time. Insatiable."

Hanzo doesn't speak for a long time, and Jesse's beginning to drift off when he carefully stands and steps over to sit on the edge of Jesse's bed. With the ginger caution of a lingering pain, Hanzo lays his bandaged hand on Jesse's and takes a measured breath.

Curious warmth seeps into Jesse, filling him slowly, tentatively. It pokes and prods at his consciousness, even daring to nudge at the demon, which stirs like a disgruntled beast but doesn't wake. Then blue strands lift away from both Hanzo's and Jesse's arms, swirling into visible forms; long, slender tubes covered in scales and fur with claws and horns and teeth and whiskers...

Two pairs of curious sapphire eyes peer down at Jesse, blinking with interest, and one of the small blue-scaled dragons leans in to give his cheek a test lick. Its tongue is still showing when it withdraws, like it can't decide whether it likes his taste or not, and the other dragon makes a rising trilling noise, as though asking its companion's opinion. The dragon that licked him purrs, tongue still out, and settles on his chest. Taking that as its cue, the other circles Jesse's head and begins snuffling at his hair and ears and beard.

"They like you," Hanzo notes, amused. Jesse struggles not to laugh or move under the onslaught of ticklish inspection.

"So I gathered," he manages. "They're, uh..."

"Cute?" Hanzo offers, lips twitching upward.

"Smaller," Jesse decides, "than I was expectin'."

"Of course. I have not given of myself. This is their true form; the size with which they devour my enemies is a product of my bloodline enhancing their power."

"I'm scared to ask... Did, uh... Did I...  _ give _ anythang when we, er....?"

"No," Hanzo assures, curling a finger under the chin of the contentedly purring dragon on Jesse's chest, its tongue still protruding beneath thin whiskers; a tiny pink tab. "By giving of myself, they have no need to take of your Dead Eye."

"And you weren't afraid they'd be... I dunno, taken over by my curse?" Jesse reaches up to nudge the dragon by his head away from his neck; it nuzzles into his palm instead.

"Tatsu and Ryu are too strong individually to be overpowered by any form of yokai or oni. Together, I doubt there is anything they cannot overcome." Jesse wants to ask, but doesn't dare, and he wants to apologise when Hanzo reads his expression and bids him to speak. "You have something on your mind?"

"It's-" Jesse shakes his head. "It's nothin'."

"You wish to know if my dragons can help you control your beast," Hanzo guesses. Jesse's grimace must be answer enough because Hanzo doesn't wait for a response before tipping up the purring dragon's chin. "What say you, Ryu?"

Ryu makes a quick churring noise, like it can't be bothered to form a proper response, and the other dragon ― Tatsu ― chuffs, adding its own churring noise in response before scrabbling down Jesse's neck and chest to butt up against Hanzo's hand in a demand for affection. That disturbs Ryu, who nips at its companion in warning, which in turn starts a playful wrestling match on Jesse's chest.

"They have both agreed," Hanzo explains as the dragons begin tussling, brows lifted in mild surprise. "I did not expect so easy a reply from both of them; they rarely agree with one another so quickly."

"For real?" Jesse blurts before he can stop himself. "They can help?"

"Mm." Hanzo snatches up one of them ― Jesse lost track of which was which ― and holds it just out of reach of the other, close enough that they still bat and snap at each other but not close enough for their half-hearted attacks to actually connect. "By channelling them through you to release them, they gain access to... how should I say it...? The network of your soul. Because they can overcome your... demon, they purify your network merely by travelling through it, thus increasing your defenses and making easier your ability to control it."

"So... yer dragons are like yer firewall?"

Hanzo laughs at that, and Jesse warms with pride to be graced with a rare moment of pure Shimada joy. The dragons perk up too, clambering into Hanzo's lap and nuzzling up against him.

"Yes, I suppose they are. Bearers of the Shimada dragons are immune to sickness, mind control and hexes, and heal faster than others. They are guardians, and we are sustainers."

While Jesse is still digesting all that, Angela returns with the promised medicine and eye patch, as well as proper clothes for each of them. She doesn't react to seeing the dragons; in fact, she doesn't even seem to notice them in the first place. After one last admonition to behave, take it easy, and check back with her every day, she lets them change and leave.

"Has she seen them before?" Jesse asks later, when they've almost reached the dormitory.

"Hmm?"

"The dragons. Has Ange seen them before?"

"No," Hanzo hums, amused. The dragons are perched on his shoulders, one crouched and watching everything with perked ears while the other is draped lazily down Hanzo's chest and back. "No one else can see them. Except Genji. And, I suspect, Master Zenyatta."

"Genji's got one o' his own, don't he?"

"He does. Soba. She is nearly as much a troublemaker as he is."

"I ain't seen his 'cept when he's fightin'," Jesse notes, eying Hanzo sidelong. "Same with yours 'til now."

"Obviously," Hanzo snorts, pausing in front of Jesse's door, which is three doors sooner and across the hall from his own. "He has not shared his dragon with you, as I have. Now that your body is familiar with Shimada dragons, you will be able to perceive them in any and all forms; no doubt you will see Soba wandering around the base now."

It takes every ounce of willpower Jesse has not to take that and turn it into an innuendo, and Hanzo must realise it because he cocks a brow as though daring Jesse to say anything.

"So, about gettin' help..." Jesse says instead, trailing off as he tries to figure out a way to ask that doesn't sound like a come on.

"When you are in need," Hanzo says, "you may come to me."

"Okay, now yer doin' it on purpose."

"Doing what?" the archer asks innocently. The crouching dragon ― Tatsu, Jesse suspects ― chirps what sounds like a laugh, and the other purrs in seeming amusement.

"Never mind," Jesse says, deciding to give Hanzo a taste of his own medicine. "I'll come to you fer help, so take care o' me, 'kay?"

Anyone else might think Hanzo's lack of response normal, but Jesse catches the hint of pink in his cheeks and ears when he turns away to head for his room, and he laughs as he realises he just rendered the usually stoic archer speechless.


End file.
